When Mobius awakes, his eyes squint against the bright golden light streaming through the open window next to the bed. He pushes the sheets away from him, groaning at the summer heat, and buries his face back into the pillow to hide from the sun.
He kicks the remainder of the sheets off his body, frustrated as they tangle at his feet. His legs knock against Loki’s in the kerfuffle, and he is surprised to find that the Asgardian’s skin is still cool, despite the sudden heatwave. Frost giant, he remembers, a plan beginning to form. He shuffles closer to the slumbering god, grabbing Loki’s arm in a manner far from elegant and even further from subtle.
“So nice and cold,” he mumbles sleepily against Loki’s skin.
Once he has successfully wrapped Loki’s cool arm around himself, he settles almost immediately back into sleep against Loki’s chest, drifting off to the soothing rise and fall of his even breaths, his steady heartbeat.
The next time Mobius returns to consciousness, he is pleased to feel strong arms wrapped tightly around him, cool fingers in his hair. His smile is warm against Loki’s now even colder skin, and he presses a chaste but tender kiss to the top of his chest before pulling away to look at his boyfriend.
“Mornin’,” he begins casually, but is stunned into silence for a moment as he takes in Loki’s skin, which has transformed into a somber steel blue, and almost sparkles as it catches the sun’s rays.
He meets Loki’s eyes, which, in place of the typical dazzling blue, are a flaming red. These eyes widen, matching Mobius’s shock, and Loki quickly shifts back into human form, although his cheeks, Mobius notes, are slightly pinker than usual.
After the initial surprise has subsided, Mobius thankfully regains the ability to speak. “Hey – hey, no. Change back.” He leans up on one arm, hovering over Loki as he places a hand delicately on the frost giant’s face. Loki doesn’t look at him, lips pouting slightly. Mobius tilts Loki’s head softly, forcing him to meet his eye. He looks embarrassed, even sad. It just about breaks Mobius’s heart.
“C’mon. Let me see you.” The words are soft, almost whispered, accompanied by a gentle stroke of fingers across Loki’s cheekbone.
Loki doesn’t speak, but his skin begins to transform, slowly, reluctantly. It’s captivating, Mobius thinks, how the blue travels across Loki’s skin, changing it, claiming it. The process is akin to placing a reset charge on the sacred timeline, except infinitely more alluring. Mobius can’t take his eyes away.
“Wow,” he says, breathlessly.
Loki looks at him intently, now, as if trying to gauge his reaction. He seems nervous. “I didn’t mean for you to see me like this. But, uh, my skin is colder when I take this form, and -“ he nods towards the window, “- I, uh. I understand if you find it…disturbing.” He clears his throat, and his voice is quieter when he continues. “It’s not my favorite part of myself, either.”
Mobius smiles, shaking his head as he continues to stroke Loki’s face with gentle fingers, grazing softly the white lines that decorate the frost giant’s face. Loki looks up at him, still anxious, wide eyes searching desperately for validation. It’s adorable.
“Loki, you’re beautiful.” He says it with such genuine sincerity and adoration that Loki, despite being cold to the touch, melts in his arms. He sighs in relief, a flustered smile pulling at his lips. His skin may be blue, but Mobius can still see him blushing.
Mobius tucks Loki’s hair behind his ear, and brushes his thumb against the Jotunn’s lip, fleetingly.
“Come here.”
Loki’s lips are cold as he kisses him, but inviting. He chuckles as Loki pulls him down, deepening the kiss. He lets him, falling willingly into Loki’s arms, falling willingly for the trickster-god all over again in this new form. And he knows, as long as this man is Loki, his Loki, he will never stop falling.
After that morning, Mobius doesn’t worry about the heat anymore.